My friend Pam should be a docent of art-events in San Antonio. She picked me up this morning and took me to a pottery sale by a local potter, Dudley Harris.
Dudley is a retired doctor who makes pottery because he loves it. Every December, he opens his beautiful Japanese-inspired studios and sells bowls and vases and pots, each year for a different benefit. Today's proceeds go entirely to Texas Public Radio, which is so much a part of my daily conversation that it's like a personal friend.
I asked Dudley where his people come from, and he said Tennessee--same as my Harris/Cherokee paternal grandfather. But beyond that, neither of us knows much. For all I know, we're cousins.
I loved the simple beauty of his house, grounds and studios, and I enjoyed handling and buying a few of his bowls for Christmas presents. I like the spare architecture, the Japanese rice paper screens that make his studio look more like a meditation center than a work space. The pottery sale continues next weekend and I may go back to look again.
After the pottery exhibit, we were going to SAMA for the annual Pottery Guild show, but the traffic around The Pearl took us so long to get through that we decided to check that off our list and go to Hecho A Mano instead. In former years, it's been a great show, but we were disappointed this year--so we quickly walked through, then went to Simi's for Indian food.
Elena will be here at the crack of dawn and staying with me while her mom runs a marathon downtown, so I'm turning in for the night, winding down watching episode 5 of River--a brilliantly-written and acted series on Netflix.
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